Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist
Real Thing, Not Tokens
0 reviewsAl has always been good at waiting. (Dubious consent. SPOILERS for manga chapter 54.)
2Original
Totally inspired by Youko Fujima's zomg shiny probably-not-work-safe spoileriffic-for-Chapter 54 picture, "Die Jagd": http://www.livejournal.com/community/rookie_jet/22531.html
Real Thing, Not Tokens
by Sheepy
--
When I need a drug in me
And it brings out the thug in me
Feel something tugging me
Then I want the real thing, not tokens
Depeche Mode
--
Everything feels wrong now--his body, the dark maze of tunnels where he lives, everybody he knows--but Lust isn't certain what it was like before. He thinks it might have been like the dreams he has now: a woman with a warm smile, a house in the warm grassy fields, a brother who isn't Envy or Greed or Wrath or Sloth.
Greed has found him in one of the lonely back corridors, curled in on himself, crying softly for that life he doesn't quite remember. He's lying under Greed now, spread out on the cold floor as Greed leans down to nip at his collarbone.
"Look how perfect," Greed whispers against his throat, like always. "How beautifully he made you."
"Please," Lust whimpers for the hundredth time in his memory. "Let me go back. I need to go back. Please."
"You know I can't help you get back," Greed murmurs, kneeling up, stroking Lust's chest lightly with carbon-sharp claws. Rocking his hips against Lust's body. "Only Father can open the gate."
Greed has dreams, too. Sometimes he wakes Lust in the dead of night, and whispers about a suit of moving armor he once owned, or about crossing a vast desert in search of immortality and glory. Pride has assured them that the dreams are nothing, and that there was never anything to their lives but this.
Pride is a liar. Greed has told him how Father dragged a struggling half-starved boy across the gate and turned him into Lust.
"I want you," Greed moans, cock hard against Lust's stomach, pulling urgently at Lust's clothes, claws scraping at Lust's throat. Afterwards, Lust knows, Greed will hold him close, kiss him gently, and touch him with warm unshielded fingers. And nobody else will show him that much affection, so Lust spreads his legs and lies still and waits.
He's always been good at waiting.
When Greed is finished, he wraps his arms around Lust and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. "What's on the other side," Greed whispers, "that you want so badly?" He's never asked that before. He's new too; maybe he understands how Lust's memories are hazy and feel only half-real.
"I don't know," Lust says, and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes again. Frustrated tears, hurt tears, hopeless tears--he can't tell the difference any more. He buries his face in Greed's shoulder. "Something I lost."
They are silent for a moment. Tears roll down Lust's cheeks, and Greed strokes his gloved arm.
Finally Greed whispers, so soft Lust can barely hear, "I don't think you'll ever find it here."
Lust looks up at him. "No, it's on the other side. I need to go back. I--"
"I mean Father won't let you find it. Won't let you have it. Everything down here is /his/."
He stares into Greed's face, trying to work out what his brother is hinting at. "I don't understand."
Greed rolls to straddle Lust again, grinning, a mad gleam in his purple eyes. "You want to find something you've lost. And I want everything there is. Father won't let us have those--everything we have is borrowed from him. Even our bodies and our lives. I don't want to be his any more."
"Greed . . . Don't . . . " Greed can't leave. Can't leave him alone and empty like this. Can't. Wouldn't. No.
Greed's hands have turned to claws against Lust's shoulders, gripping hard with the force of his wanting. "We'll look for what you lost," Greed offers. "We'll find an alchemist who can open the gates. I want to live outside--I want the real thing, not what Father makes."
Lust whimpers, fearful. What if Father catches them? What if there's nobody else who can open the gates? What if Greed leaves without him? What if--
"Come with me," Greed begs. "Be mine."
"How do you know the outside is better?" Lust asks.
Greed laughs. "We don't know until we try, do we?"
Lust smiles, small and nervous, and ventures, "Well, it can't be much worse."
--
[ End ]
Real Thing, Not Tokens
by Sheepy
--
When I need a drug in me
And it brings out the thug in me
Feel something tugging me
Then I want the real thing, not tokens
Depeche Mode
--
Everything feels wrong now--his body, the dark maze of tunnels where he lives, everybody he knows--but Lust isn't certain what it was like before. He thinks it might have been like the dreams he has now: a woman with a warm smile, a house in the warm grassy fields, a brother who isn't Envy or Greed or Wrath or Sloth.
Greed has found him in one of the lonely back corridors, curled in on himself, crying softly for that life he doesn't quite remember. He's lying under Greed now, spread out on the cold floor as Greed leans down to nip at his collarbone.
"Look how perfect," Greed whispers against his throat, like always. "How beautifully he made you."
"Please," Lust whimpers for the hundredth time in his memory. "Let me go back. I need to go back. Please."
"You know I can't help you get back," Greed murmurs, kneeling up, stroking Lust's chest lightly with carbon-sharp claws. Rocking his hips against Lust's body. "Only Father can open the gate."
Greed has dreams, too. Sometimes he wakes Lust in the dead of night, and whispers about a suit of moving armor he once owned, or about crossing a vast desert in search of immortality and glory. Pride has assured them that the dreams are nothing, and that there was never anything to their lives but this.
Pride is a liar. Greed has told him how Father dragged a struggling half-starved boy across the gate and turned him into Lust.
"I want you," Greed moans, cock hard against Lust's stomach, pulling urgently at Lust's clothes, claws scraping at Lust's throat. Afterwards, Lust knows, Greed will hold him close, kiss him gently, and touch him with warm unshielded fingers. And nobody else will show him that much affection, so Lust spreads his legs and lies still and waits.
He's always been good at waiting.
When Greed is finished, he wraps his arms around Lust and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. "What's on the other side," Greed whispers, "that you want so badly?" He's never asked that before. He's new too; maybe he understands how Lust's memories are hazy and feel only half-real.
"I don't know," Lust says, and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes again. Frustrated tears, hurt tears, hopeless tears--he can't tell the difference any more. He buries his face in Greed's shoulder. "Something I lost."
They are silent for a moment. Tears roll down Lust's cheeks, and Greed strokes his gloved arm.
Finally Greed whispers, so soft Lust can barely hear, "I don't think you'll ever find it here."
Lust looks up at him. "No, it's on the other side. I need to go back. I--"
"I mean Father won't let you find it. Won't let you have it. Everything down here is /his/."
He stares into Greed's face, trying to work out what his brother is hinting at. "I don't understand."
Greed rolls to straddle Lust again, grinning, a mad gleam in his purple eyes. "You want to find something you've lost. And I want everything there is. Father won't let us have those--everything we have is borrowed from him. Even our bodies and our lives. I don't want to be his any more."
"Greed . . . Don't . . . " Greed can't leave. Can't leave him alone and empty like this. Can't. Wouldn't. No.
Greed's hands have turned to claws against Lust's shoulders, gripping hard with the force of his wanting. "We'll look for what you lost," Greed offers. "We'll find an alchemist who can open the gates. I want to live outside--I want the real thing, not what Father makes."
Lust whimpers, fearful. What if Father catches them? What if there's nobody else who can open the gates? What if Greed leaves without him? What if--
"Come with me," Greed begs. "Be mine."
"How do you know the outside is better?" Lust asks.
Greed laughs. "We don't know until we try, do we?"
Lust smiles, small and nervous, and ventures, "Well, it can't be much worse."
--
[ End ]
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